Let's play a game...

called suicide...

I am Zombie...

I think I lost my passion for cycling, I have no longer my heart in it.
At least that's what it looked like this morning. As I started my journey my heart rate was around 215, then dropped to a 127, jumped up again to 198 and then I flat-lined...
Strangely enough my legs kept going, keeping a good steady cadence and my wheels kept rolling. I can only see three explanations.
1. Cyclists are like 'roaches (the legs keep going even if you cut of their head)
2. The chest-strap of my heart sensor was maladjusted (too boring to be true).
3. V would find this probably the coolest explanation... I am Zombie...

Cause & Effect.

It started raining this morning as I was about to leave for work.
Just my luck, I forgot my rain jacket at work last night.
Next time I'll forget a T-shirt and swim trunks at work...

Visdom Part II

"Look papa, the clouds are burning."
"Papa, do you know why Gargamel keeps Smurfs in a little cage? To make soup..."
(V being dropped of in kindergarten)

"I really need to get a haircut, I start to look like a German."
(L getting ready for work)

Bloody wind...

Mr. Exhaust breather was home alone last night, should be fun. I kicked up my feet, I popped "Earthed 4 death or glory" in the DVD player and got myself ready for some sweet downhill and freeride action...

And then the phone rang.

"Hi det er M, hvordan gaar det?"
"Hi M, det gaar godt nok, men hvordan har I det?"
"Ikke saa godt, F er døde..."

The rest of the evening passed in a blurry haze. I called L to tell her that M's father-in-law passed away, called my parents, went to bed...

The ride into work this morning was quite hard; memories of F were my co-pilot.

PS: If anybody asks me whether I'm OK I'll just tell 'em it's the bloody wind that makes my eyes so red and swollen.

Bad idea...

Legwork...

Yehuda for president...

Check Yehuda Moon for more goodness.

I feel kinda bad...

but not really.
This morning on the ride in I pass a queue of cars on the right (normally I will pass queues on the left but traffic was so dense and I did not feel like getting crushed by the oncoming traffic) and this lady just decides to drive even closer to the parked cars the moment I pass.
I can not move any further to the right, slam my right hand against the rear-view mirror of a parked truck and pull a little endo. My rear wheel touches (scratches?) the woman's car as it bounces back (the wheel, not the car).

And I ride on.

What was I supposed to do? Ride illegally on the side walk and endanger pedestrians? Vanish in thin air? I am no bike ninja. Commute by car? I am not THAT desperate.


PS: I got My new electronic ID last night, L says I look like a criminal on the picture.

It's not that different from a ride in the park...

Why...

is it always the fat stinking lard brain, who does not know how to read traffic signs nor masters his own mother tongue, and not some young fit Swedish nanny who will stop to lecture me on where to ride my bike? Cyclists are allowed to ride against traffic in a one-way street if the appropriate traffic sings tell you so. I am however not allowed to ride on the side walk as Mr. faeces-for-brain helpfully suggested, even if that means that he has to leave some room for a stupid cyclist.

Why do you engage your car onto the crossroads even when it's obvious to everybody that the crossroads are already completely blocked and that you're just adding insult to injury? Is it the excessive use of hairspray that caused brain necrosis or are just just a selfish c**t?

And last but not least; Why do I even bother?

Business Proposal

Good Day,

My name is XIE XINGHUA, I work with BANK OF CHINA,LONDON.

I have a Business Proposal of $17,300,000.00 for you to handle with me from my bank.I will need you to help me in transferring the above funds from my bank to your country. I need to know if you will be able to handle this with me before I explain to you in details.

Should you be interested please send me your:
1,Full names,
2,occupation,
3,private phone number,
4,current residential address.

Finally after that I shall furnish you with more informations about this project.However I shall be waiting your response and assurance.
Your earliest response to this letter will be appreciated.

Kind Regards
Mr.Xie Xinghua

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Dear Mr. Xie,

You are clearly mistaken, I am an exhaust breather not a Muppet.

Regards,

Mr. Exhaust Breather

Visdom

When I help V to get dressed to go to school we have these deep conversations about the meaning of life...

V: There are no toilets in the jungle are there?
Papa exhaust breather: Not that I know of...
V: That's OK Tarzan does not go to the toilet.
Papa exhaust breather: Of course he does, he would get sick if he didn't...
V: Nooooh! Tarzan does not go to the toilet. Tarzan does not eat.
Papa exhaust breather: I'm sure he does, otherwise he would get weak...
V: Nooooh! Tarzan has strong muscles.
Papa exhaust breather: I see...

Lance vs. Mash SF

Making a difference

What if...

dogs could drive cars?
A barking mad idea you say? Think again.
The advantages are numerous.

- No more flagrant hostility towards pedestrians and other cyclists, after all dogs are man's best friend.
- No more blind sorry-I-did-not-see-you- driving. It's the dog leading the blind and not the other way around.
- No accidents caused by female dogs putting on make-up while driving. Did you ever see a dog wearing lipstick?
- No more answering cell phones when driving. How would they do it ? Dog have no thumbs.

And last but not least; dogs learn. Remember Pavlovs' dog? That clever canine learned in no time that a ringing bell equals food. Humans on the other hand are still having trouble to understand the relationship between cars and traffic jams.

Woof!

PS: One might object that dogs are colour-blind but it seems to me that the same goes for a lot of drivers... and cyclists... and pedestrians.

I wonder...

what went on in the head of the driver (stuck in the traffic-jam from Hell) who was looking at me all misty-eyed while I was waitng for the light to turn green. (Yes I am a boring law-abiding citizen like that). Was he admiring my bike? Checking my outfit? Ogling my hairy legs? If so I am of course very flattered and everything but L and I are happily married.
I guess I read too much into this; the poor guy must have been standing there for the last half an hour, breathing carbon-monoxide and diesel fumes, turning his brain to jelly.

Wake Up! Take a hike! Even better; Ride a bike!

ps: The extra time I get by not queuing along with all the other gas-guzzling sheep was well spent making french toast for breakfast (LL loved it, V stuck with cornflakes). French press coffee and French toast; a champion's breakfast (it surely beats black coffee and cigarettes).

Check your head...

and your bike(s) on a regular basis. Here's why.
Last night while preparing my bike for another week of bad-weather-commuting, i noticed some play on the big chain ring. It turned out that one of the 4 screws that fixes the chainring to the cranks had decided to run off without even leaving a letter or anything. The other 3 screws were also ready to f*ck off 'cause they were pretty loose as well. Luckily I could recuperate a screw of some old crank set that I have lying around (No I don't throw that 'junk' away it will come handy one day...). So I tightened the chainring bolts, cleaned and lubed the chain and re-installed my fenders.
According to Belgian traffic rules, installing fenders on a sports bike (like my MTB) makes it mandatory to run reflectors as well. The fact that I have working lights on my bike does not help, the law says reflectors... Befehl ist befehl.

So I am, as of today, riding an illegal bike...

Welcome to moronia.

All hope is lost...

Me: I'm pt3r I'm 37 years old and I bought my wife an iPod classic for her birthday.
Everybody: Welcome pt3r!
...

Talk of the day...

Disgruntled colleague: Traffic was completely crazy last night; It took me more than an hour to drive home.
Exhaustbreather: Why don't you come by bike?
Disgruntled colleague: That's crazy talk! I can not do that; I live almost 10 km from work.
Exhaustbreather: Eh... I live 17 km from work...
Disgruntled colleague: Yes but your legs are trained...
Exhaustbreather: Do you think I was born on a bike? If you don't ride your legs will never get trained.